Enough
by lorelei2876
Summary: Kenshin stood relaxed, waiting for his adversaries to come to him. He hated this, the fighting and the turmoil that followed him because of his past. Sometimes, he wondered why he even bothered to try and live a normal life. SanoKenshin, shounen aish


Yet another old fic – I had such a love affair with the Sano/Kenshin pairing.

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**Enough**

Kenshin drew his blade, its edge flashing in the early afternoon light. The red sunlight glinted against the steel surface, mirroring the flying strands of scarlet hair on his head. He was surrounded by fifteen masked figures that encircled him like wolves ready for the kill. Little did these men realize that Kenshin was no prey, and these hunters should be careful of becoming the hunted.

"What do you want?" Kenshin's voice was low, his tone even.

Kenshin did not appreciate being lured out into the woods for a fight. He had come out to the woods, expecting to meet Sano for sparring and training. Instead, he was faced by a group of masked men ready for a fight against the famed warrior Hitokiri Batousai. He was Himura Kenshin now, no longer the man known as Batousai, the killer without conscience. His fighting days were over and Kenshin only wanted peace. Who were these men to try and destroy that fragile new life he had built? When will the fighting end?

"Hitokiri Batousai, you have been chosen to die under our swords."

The guttural voice came from the leader, a man wearing a red mask rather than the black ones his followers wore. The man was tall, taller even than Sanosuke, with cold blue eyes that bore into Kenshin's violet ones. Before becoming Kenshin, he was exactly like this cold-eyed man with the red mask - a killer, a monster, the walking dead. But no longer. Not any longer... He was Kenshin now.

"Why? And under whose orders?" His voice was still calm, even faintly curious as to who would send hired killers after him. "Who sent you?"

"That is our business. Prepare yourself, Batousai!" With that warning, the group charged as one.

Kenshin stood relaxed, waiting for his adversaries to come to him. He hated this, the fighting and the turmoil that followed him because of his past. Sometimes, he wondered why he even bothered to try and live a normal life. But his thoughts were interrupted by brandished swords and blades. Fight, Flee or Die. Kenshin chose to fight. Sometimes, there was no other choice; he could not allow these men to involve his family. Not his family. Not here, not now, not ever.

Sanosuke sped towards the forest, knowing that he might be too late. He had seen the note that was supposedly from him, a note telling Kenshin that he had found a great place deep in the woods for their training sessions. Kaoru had told Sano that Kenshin had left nearly half an hour ago to meet him in the clearing. Sano, so as to not scare Kaoru, had pretended to forget and ran for the clearing.

Kenshin was in trouble. Sano could feel it deep within, that small part of himself that he usually ignored, that part of himself that was constantly, acutely aware of Kenshin. From the first moment that Sano met Kenshin, so very many years ago, there was this sudden, inexplicable connection that held him bound to that red-haired warrior. He had always been sensitive, but had usually ignored this talent. It served him well, but he preferred to disregard this particular part of himself. After all, what does a warrior need of the supernatural?

But... ever since Kenshin, ever since he and Kenshin... That awareness had gotten stronger, no longer content to stay deep within and ignored, but now screaming at him to run faster, faster, faster, because his Kenshin was in danger.

Sano ran as if the devil was snapping at his heels, long legs eating up the ground, almost flying over the rough terrain. He willed his body to go faster, needing to be there before it was too late.

This time, Sano listened to his hidden self, listened hard to that connection with Kenshin. He was afraid. With this perception, he could feel Kenshin, could feel "Batousai" slowly wakening from within, scenting battle and chaos. He could sense the coldness that was slowly seeping into Kenshin's psyche, the insidious touch of that alternate personality that Kenshin tried so hard to bury. Sanosuke could feel the wintry darkness that presaged Hitokiri Batousai. He shuddered, shying away from that awareness.

He was close, could hear the sounds of loud breathing, of steel clashing against steel, of the grunts of pain and effort. Sano could feel Kenshin tiring, losing control of his tight old on Batousai; feel the rising green tide of anger and bloodlust.

"Oraoraoraoraoraoraoraoraora!" Sano's battle cry pierced the almost silent battle between Kenshin and eight other men. Seven figures were on the ground, unconscious and bleeding profusely from non-fatal wounds. But Kenshin was slowly losing ground, overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Kenshin flicked a glance over where Sanosuke was, relief warring with fear. He regretted nothing, not this welcome weakness that always came over him whenever Sanosuke was around, this mixed feeling of wholeness and vulnerability that assailed him. He knew that this weakness was strength; this vulnerability was armor, all against that madness that overtook him in the heat of battle. Sano was here... Sano was here, Kenshin chanted, fighting off that mad haze that was slowly shrouding his mind. But the smell of battle, of blood and heat and sweat and hate, the taste of fear and rage and the sound icy cold steel that whistled its song in the night... Kenshin could not fight it all. Batousai took one more step towards awareness.

Sano attacked the nearest man, noting the black mask that covered the lower half of his face, much like a shinobi's mask. Then Sano was in the midst of battle, exhilaration running through his veins at the prospect of heavy fighting, his fists flying, connecting. Soon, he was back to back with Kenshin, the knowledge that THIS was his place secure in his mind, their years together making them into a formidable pair.

"Kenshin, you okay?" Sano asked, eluding a sword stroke and hitting the attacker with a punch that tossed the opponent against a tree trunk a good fifteen feet away. The attacker slid down the trunk to sit limply at the base, blood streaming from his nose.

"Fine."

Kenshin did NOT sound fine to Sano at all. There was an icy inflection in his voice that heralded Batousai's entrance along with the green, murderous look that crept into Kenshin's warm violet eyes. Bloodlust had taken hold, and Sanosuke's could feel it echoing deep in his own mind.

Kenshin's sword flickered and darted, almost invisible in its swiftness, its strokes sharp enough to cut through air. Sano could swear that he could hear the wind shatter underneath each blow.

"Kenshin, be careful!" Sano yelled, fists connecting with bone and flesh, hoping that Kenshin would understand what he meant.

Kenshin's mouth stretched into Batousai's grim smile. He understood what Sano meant; to not let the killer loose, to keep control, to not kill. But he was getting tired, and the "other" wanted to be free. Yet, Kenshin took hold of himself and swore again that he would never take another life, never let Batousai win again. But... it was getting harder and harder to keep Batousai locked away. Years and years of suppression, years of built up tension... Someday Batousai will win. But not today, please no not today, not ever please, the chant ran together in Kenshin's mind.

Kenshin slashed at another man, the unsharpened edge of the katana connecting with his opponents shoulder, breaking bone and tearing muscle. The assailant fell, his mouth open in a silent scream that never took voice, for Kenshin hit the back of his neck with the pommel of his sword. The man fell, unconscious and badly hurt. The total number of attackers was cut down to two including the red-masked leader.

Sano spun on the ball of his right foot, his left connecting with the breastbone of another attacker who was sneaking up on Kenshin. The man fell down with a grunt, gasping for breath even as his eyes rolled back. Sano stood, facing the last opponent still standing. He had taken a few cuts, nothing serious, but he was tired already. These men were good, whoever they were. Now there was only the leader to take care of.

Kenshin slowly turned to face the leader, his eyes a strange combination of violet and the icy green color of madness. Kenshin re-sheathed his sword, then went into his guard position, right leg forward, left leg back, his left hand on the sheath of his sword, his right poised over the pommel for a quick draw. He could feel the madness taking over him, the slowly altering consciousness from Kenshin to Batousai. Kenshin was losing control.

"Who sent you?" Kenshin's voice was cold, his eyes even more so. The green tide was slowly taking over, his anger building. "Who sent YOU?"

"That is my business to know, Batousai." The red-masked man was calm. His sword was still sheathed over his left hip, his arms folded across his chest.

Sano slowly walked closer to Kenshin, his senses jangling with alarm. He could feel Kenshin slowly going out of control. He could almost see Hitokiri Batousai waking. He put his hand on Kenshin's shoulder, felt the flesh underneath tense.

"Kenshin, don't let him get to you. Sano's voice was low, calm, the voice of reason. "Don't let Hitokiri out. Do you understand?"

Kenshin didn't answer, his entire being focused on the battle between his two selves. Sano could feel the tension humming from Kenshin's body, the muscles under his hand was so tense it felt like it would burst out of the skin. He could almost hear the keening strain within Kenshin, the tension pitched so high as to break glass. Then it was gone. Kenshin was himself again and Hitokiri was inert, held down by sheer will.

"…Sano…"

Sano winced away from the gratefulness in Kenshin's voice. But he clutched Kenshin's shoulder one more time, and then let go. Sano took his place next to him, facing the masked man.

"You heard Kenshin," Sano stressed the name, "Who sent you?"

The man ignored the question. "You should have killed us, Batousai. You have left survivors that can come back and take you. That was a mistake." Between one eye blink to the next, the leader disappeared.

Kenshin narrowed his eyes, his violet gaze flicking across the clearing, searching, searching, his senses tuned to a high pitch. Then he leapt, his sword drawn, his mouth shaping a soundless snarl.

Hitokiri Batousai stirred once more, awareness of danger-anger-rage-battle lust prodding him awake.

Kenshin's mind roiled with fury, "Your fight is with ME!"

With a heave of his shoulders, he parried the blow aimed at Sano's head, throwing the masked man off to land on his knees several yards away. Kenshin landed opposite of the man, his sword held back and away from his body. With a swift movement, he re-sheathed his sword, then turned to face the man, watching him impassively with the cold gaze of an executioner.

Sano was frozen in place, stunned by the swift exchange of blows. He turned towards the masked man, ready to finish the job Kenshin had begun. Sano took one step and stopped at the sound of a rattling cough. The red-masked leader shook, his body shuddering from uncontrollable tremors, his hands moving up to clutch his throat. A bright stream of blood poured from his mouth, staining the mask a darker red, the flood streaming down his neck.

The man stared at the flood that stained his mask, his chest, and his hands. He half turned on his knees to face Kenshin, half extended his right hand, eyes afire with hate, then collapsed on the ground with another trembling groan.

Sano took another step towards the inert man, then stopped, afraid that Batousai had awakened after all. He turned to the red haired figure at the other end of the clearing.

"...Is he-?"

"No." His voice was a disturbing blend of Batousai's cold tones and Kenshin's more human, tired one. "No…But he will never fight again."

A wind blew across the clearing, the breeze cold against sweat-dampened skin. Kenshin closed his eyes and let the wind run through his hair, his body, letting it cool the fires that battles always aroused in him. Battle lust, battle-rage, adrenaline pumped through his frame, stirring the crudest, basest desires in his body. This was another reason why he had wanted to leave Batousai behind; because of that hard to control personality that needed more blood to slake its thirst. It fed on a never-ending desire to fight, to dance on the thin line between madness and sanity. And it had an insatiable appetite for chaos that would never, ever be satisfied. He closed his eyes and tried to swallow the bile that rose to his throat, tried to fight an internal battle between Hitokiri Batousai and Himura Kenshin.

He was so tired. The physical battle had sapped just enough of his strength to give Batousai an edge, and Batousai was fully awake and aware. Kenshin retreated, still fighting to keep control... Hitokiri Batousai opened his eyes, the green color of madness flickering deep within the slowly fading violet.

Sano watched Kenshin's unmoving figure, the wind stirring long strands of hair that whipped around his head, blood red tendrils that flew in the stiff breeze. Sano was alarmed, a keen wail of tension thrummed at the back of his skull.

Then Kenshin opened his eyes, and the warped color of insanity stared back at him. Sano knew what this meant; Batousai had won this battle, and it was up to him bring Kenshin back.

With a harsh curse, Sano jumped towards him, hoping that Kenshin was aware enough to know that he was trying to help. He kept an eye out for the blade, watching it quiver in Batousai's hands, an indication of the fight between Kenshin and the other. Sano knew that if it switched sides, with the sharpened edge turned to face him, the chances of his getting out of this situation alive was nil.

Batousai growled, an animalistic snarl of hate and hunger. He wanted to fight, and this new prey was attacking, his long legs eating up the ground, long loping strides that would bring him closer to death. Batousai grinned. Was this man so eager to die?

"Kenshin!" Sano yelled, then jumped to the side when Batousai suddenly appeared in front of him, slashing with the unsharpened edge. Sano dodged, but a deep cut across his chest opened, staining his shirt red.

Batousai snarled again, angry at the "other" that turned his fatal blow just enough to save his quarry. He hated that weak other that resided in his mind and took over his body. He hated that sniveling coward that turned his back from the battlefield and chaos to become a wanderer, a mere man. An unintelligible growl rumbled out from deep within his chest. Hitokiri Batousai will kill again, and this man, this tall white-robed man in front of him, this human that the "other" LOVED would be the perfect weapon against that idiot within who had enclosed Batousai deep in the darkness. To kill this Sanosuke would kill Kenshin, and Kenshin's death meant Hitokiri's freedom.

Sano could feel the blood seeping down his chest, his shirt sagging from the blood it was soaking up. He was afraid. He was afraid that Kenshin was too far to reach, and that all that was left was Batousai. Sanosuke retreated a few steps back, still watching the red-haired figure with the face of an angel and the expression of a demon. Watched the hands that trembled, that fought to keep the katana in its nonfatal stance. Sano listened hard, trying to sense out Kenshin, trying to find a way to break through Batousai's guard. This was the worst he had seen. Kenshin was too weak to fight. And Batousai was too strong. Batousai had won. Sanosuke could find no other solution...

Hitokiri charged, a blur of motion that streaked across the distance between him and Sanosuke, this time intent on a kill. He will die he will die they will die together, the killer screamed in his mind.

Sano knew what to do. He stood still and waited, eyes holding the insane green ones that promised nothing but death.

Batousai raised his katana, the sharpened side flashing in the air, and sliced down, his mouth open in a silent scream.

The blade flashed silver then dulled as Sanosuke's lifeblood stained the mirror like surface.

Green unseeing eyes darkened to violet that understood.

He watched the change from Hitokiri to Himura, and a smile of understanding, love and acceptance dulled to a blank opacity.

Sanosuke fell silently, his body flung back by the blow. He landed several feet away, his arms out flung, his chest crossed by a wound that bled his life away.

Kenshin howled in denial, the sword dropping from his hands, and Batousai cringed away, blasted back by a wave of loss and pain that shrieked its way out of Kenshin and battered against Hitokiri's control. That small loosening of his hold was enough for Kenshin to wrest control of his body, and shattered Hitokiri's awareness into useless pieces.

"No! Sanosuke!" Kenshin's voice cracked, his wail of anguish echoing through the clearing.

But the only thing that noticed was a flock of birds that took wing in the dark sky.

Kenshin took several wobbling steps towards the prone figure, his eyes deep purple pools of... nothing. Hitokiri was gone, but Kenshin felt as though he might as well be dead.

He dropped down to his knees next to Sanosuke, and touched that face, so quiet in its sleep, peaceful almost in its blankness. Kenshin reached out a hand to touch his face, that beautiful strong face that he had loved for so long. Sano, who was his family and his friend and his beloved and his half. Sano, who was always there, calming even when enraged, always reminding Kenshin why he chose to be Kenshin. Sano who was all and everything. His Sanosuke.

A tear rolled down his face, followed by others, more and more until the sobs that had been silent till now broke free and Kenshin realized that Sano had chosen this way because it was the only way and that Batousai was gone, will not come back, not ever, but Sano...

Kenshin gathered the still body in his arms, salt tears dropping to mix with blood, his voice whispering Sanosuke's name over and over as if to call him back into the empty shell that he held. But this was no fairy tale ending where the tears of a lover could call back a beloved from the dead. This was no story. Sanosuke was dead. No amount of tears could change that. Yet Kenshin wept, rocking back and forth, clutching Sano's body to him, unwilling to let go.

"Was it worth it? Was it? Your death for my sanity? What do I do now? What do I do now?"

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Kaoru wiped her eyes, and bent down to light an incense stick. She watched Kenshin, his motions slow, his face blank. Kaoru had known about the two of them, of their bond and their devotion to each other. She wondered what had happened, for Kenshin had not spoken a word since they were found in the clearing, led by Kaoru who had gotten worried. Kaoru swallowed a sob, reliving the hellish sight that greeted her. Bodies were scattered across the clearing, and in the center of it all was Kenshin rocking Sano's still body.

Yahiko stood next to Kenshin, holding his hand tightly. Sanosuke was gone and Kenshin... Kenshin might very well follow. Yahiko clutched Kenshin's hand tighter, as if to keep him closer, to hold him HERE. Yahiko's fought to keep his face under a blank mask of control. He was fifteen years of age, an adult in his own eyes. But he felt like a child in the face of this loss. A brother was lost to him. And he was greatly afraid that Kenshin would follow. There was no spark of life in Kenshin, as if... as if his soul had been torn away.

Himura Kenshin stood, holding Yahiko's hand in his cold one. He looked at Kaoru, weeping silently, tears running down her face. He could feel Yahiko shaking, trying to be a man and show no emotion. And he looked within himself, and found the strength to say goodbye.

Kenshin picked up a stick of incense, gently released Yahiko's hand, and lit the stick. He looked towards his family, and smiled sadly. Sano had given him all of this, after all. Sano died for this, so shouldn't he live for it too? He had half a soul within himself that was bound tightly to his family. That half a soul was enough. It will be enough.

With steady hands, he set the incense in front of the altar, and closed his eyes.

Kenshin brought his hands together, bowed his head and prayed. The sun shone down, lighting the dulled red to fiery strands. It was enough.


End file.
